Read Rosalia's Bittersweet Pastry Shop for Free Online Page B

writing a recipe book about the convent’s pastry shop and was here to interview Sorella Agata. But the older nuns also frowned upon her excessively nosy behavior and kept as much as they could from her. “It’s for her own good, after all,” they would say. Sorella Agata couldn’t help feeling the other sisters were being petty and should understand that Veronique’s young age accounted for much of her naïveté. She was after all still a teenager, and she’d been through a lot in her short life.
    â€œHer name is Claudia Lombardo. She is a food writer from America—New York City, in fact—and she is here to write a book featuring our pastries as well as the history of the pastry shop.”
    â€œA writer? From New York City? How wonderful! I must tell everyone.” Veronique turned to leave, but Sorella Agata stopped her with a firm grip to her shoulder.
    â€œWait! You do not need to tell them. They know already. Besides, I need your help here. When the timer goes off, please take the anise cookies out of the oven and bring a few out on a plate to Signorina Lombardo and me. And please, Veronique, do not ask her any questions. She is here to interview me, not the other way around.”
    â€œ Va bene, Sorella Agata.” Veronique sighed, not even attempting to hide her extreme disappointment. “I’ll just take these towels first to the linen closet.”
    â€œLet me. I am all done sprinkling sugar on these ravioli.”
    Madre Carmela took the towels from Veronique and held them up against her chest so that her arthritic hands wouldn’t drop them.
    Sorella Agata walked over to their espresso and cappuccino machine and poured two demitasse cups of espresso for Claudia and herself. They had only been able to purchase the expensive machine two years ago. Before they had the machine, the job of several workers in the kitchen was strictly to make espresso so that a few pots were always brewed and ready to serve their long lines of customers. But now that they had the machine and could make espresso and cappuccino in half the time, they were able to put the workers to use elsewhere in the kitchen.
    As she stepped out into the courtyard, she observed Claudia seated at one of the café-style tables the convent kept for their patrons who wanted to eat their pastries while enjoying the outdoors and their garden. Veronique was right in noting that the writer was beautiful. Her long chestnut brown hair was clipped up in a sloppy French twist, but its imperfect shape suited her relaxed style. She wore jeans that hugged her tall, lithe frame and a sleeveless top in a stunning shade of coral. A leather messenger bag rested on the empty seat beside her. Sorella Agata expected to see a laptop, but to her surprise Claudia was writing on a legal pad. Large, oval brown sunglasses covered her eyes. Sorella Agata hoped she would remove them when they began their discussion. She hated not being able to read people’s expressions, and she was already feeling a bit anxious about their interview.
    â€œI’m sorry I am late, Claudia.” Sorella Agata placed the cups of espresso on the table and sat down opposite her guest.
    â€œThat’s all right. But I must admit I was a little nervous I had scared you off with our earlier conversation and that you had changed your mind completely about the book.” Claudia smiled shyly as she took off her sunglasses.
    At the mention of their awkward discussion, Sorella Agata felt bad once more at how she had reacted.
    â€œI should be the one to apologize, Claudia.”
    â€œNo, please don’t, Sister.” Claudia reached out and patted her hand.
    â€œExcuse me.” Veronique quietly spoke as she approached the two women. While she was doing her best to keep her gaze lowered and not stare at Claudia, Sorella Agata could see she kept stealing sidelong glances as she placed the plate of anise cookies on the